


When Harry Met Caractacus

by clowchan



Category: Chitty Chitty Bang Bang - All Media Types, Seared (2019 play), Seared - Fandom, Trouble in the Heights (2011)
Genre: Drinking, F/F, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21551527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clowchan/pseuds/clowchan
Summary: In which, Nevada gets extremely jealous over Caractacus' new friend and completely misreads their friendship. What could go wrong?
Relationships: Caractacus Potts/Nevada Ramirez
Kudos: 20
Collections: Nevactacus





	When Harry Met Caractacus

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after the events in Seared (2019)

Caractacus enters their apartment with a big grin on his face, carrying a huge bag.

Nevada is on the couch, sipping a coffee. “You seem happier than normal.”

Caractacus looks over at him as he walks by, “Is that a bad thing?”

“No, but curious.”

“There’s this brilliant place down in Brooklyn and-”

Nevada places his coffee down, “What were you doing in Brooklyn?”

“There’s a thrift shop that has parts for cheap. And oddly, plaid fabric.” He hefts up the huge bag onto a counter.

“You and your plaid,” Nevada smirks.

He pulls out a roll of plaid and waves it, “One of these days I need to make you a pair of clothes.”

“Don’t you dare,” he gives Caractacus the finger.

Caractacus snickers as he places the roll back into the bag. “After picking up some items at the shops, I felt a bit peckish, and I popped over to this restaurant.”

Nevada pouts, “Without me?”

Caractacus pauses for a second, holding a few cogs in his hands, “I’ll bring you there next time. I promise!”

“So what’s so _brilliant_ about this place?” Nevada partially mocks his English accent.

“The food, _by Jove_! It’s incredible. The pork belly just melts in your mouth,” Caractacus rubs his stomach. “And the chef was super lovely and reminded me of you!” 

His eyebrows raise, ”Me? What do you mean?”

Caractacus counts with his fingers, “Fast talker, a little sarcastic, funny.”

Nevada pouts, “I’m not funny.”

“You know you are,” he says as he pulls more parts out of the bag. “But the food was out of this world. If I could live there I would.”

Nevada smirks, “Want me to help pack your bags?”

“Nevada,” he sighs. “I’m only joking.”

“You better be,” he says with his hands on his hips. “How about we go _together_ tomorrow? Need to see this place for myself.”

“I won’t object. I want to try the salmon! Heard the scallops are quite delectable too,” Caractacus grins.

“After I take care of some inventory, we’ll eat there for lunch.” Nevada types something into his phone and places it back into his pocket.

“Sounds great! Look up The Red Cafe in Park Slope.” Caractacus sits at their kitchen island, inspecting his parts. “The pictures and reviews speak for themselves!”

Nevada takes out his phone again and does what Caractacus says, “Damn, you’re not kidding.”

“Would I ever lie about food?” Caractacus raises a ratchet wheel to the light.

Nevada tuts, “You tricked me into eating that nasty shit in a jar. Mar… something.”

“Marmite? It was April Fools. I don’t particularly like it either. Your face was priceless,” he says looking through an hour wheel, grinning. “Also, that was payback for eating that chili pepper. Mouth felt like it was on bloody fire. I can barely handle jalapeños.”

  
Nevada leans against the table, “Weak.”

“Can’t help what my stomach can’t handle,” he puts various wheels and cogs together and spins them.

“Still weak,” Nevada leans over and kisses his cheek.

* * *

The next day, Caractacus convinced Nevada to keep a low profile and take the train down to Park Slope. As they walked up to The Red Café, there was a line, but not that bad. 15 minutes pass by and they were seated by the window. Having already looked at the menu prior to coming, they knew what they were having.

Caractacus looks up at the waitress, “The seared salmon for me, please. And a pinot noir.”

She looks at Nevada, “And for you, sir?”

He replies, “The scallops and chardonnay.”

The waitress leaves.

Nevada stared at Caractacus, “I didn’t know you drank wine, Crackpott.”

“On occasion. I usually abstain when I work on major projects. Want to keep my head clear. But today’s an exception.”

Nevada teases, “What about all those parts on the kitchen table?”

“You know I’ll clean those up by the end of the day.”

A man calls out to Caractacus interrupting their conversation as a waitress brings out their food. “Hey, Caractacus! You’re back again.” The man wore a chef’s jacket and a black apron with thin white stripes, greeting him with a handshake.

“Told you I would come again,” he smiles. “And as promised, I brought another customer.”

“Seems like you did.” He sticks out his hand to Nevada, “Harry, Co-Head Chef of The Red Cafe. Nice to meet ya.”

Nevada silently shakes his hand.

“A quiet type, huh? Opposite of you, Caractacus,” Harry jokes.

“If only you knew,” Caractacus laughs while Nevada just glares at Harry, sipping his wine.

“When you have time and don’t let Mike know - there’s a thing I need you look at this week.”

“Oh? What is it?” Caractacus asked with great interest.

“A mixer machine,” Harry rolls up his sleeves exposing his tattoos, “Yeah, him and Emily always hire these tech guys. I personally don’t think they know what they’re fucking doing. It’s mechanical so right up your alley.” He shakes his head. “Sorry, didn’t mean to curse. Mike says it’s bad PR.”

“Trust me, it’s fine. I’ve heard worse.” He smiles before eating a piece of salmon. “By Jove, this is good.”

“Should be. I made it,” Harry says with pride.

“Mmm but I would love to take a look at it. I always love a good project,” Caractacus beams.

During Harry and Caractacus’ conversation, Nevada felt a tinge of jealousy. More like he was boiling with jealousy. The way Caractacus just stared up at Chef Harry and smiled. And was that a slight blush on his cheeks? Was it the food? And Caractacus kept eyeing his tattoo and biting his lip. Nevada had tattoos too, so what was different? Now he was touching his hand and his tattooed forearm. Was _his_ Crackpott falling for this chef? Is that the reason he wanted to eat here again so soon? And this project? Was there something more? It pissed him off. He almost didn’t want to touch his food. But he did so to not raise any suspicions with Caractacus. He eats a scallop. _Goddammit_. It was amazing. He couldn’t even pretend to not like it.

“Seems like he enjoyed my food,” Harry grins.

“That was quick,” Caractacus looked on with amazement. “I’m not even halfway finished.”

“I’ll leave you to it. Gotta head back to the kitchen. Rodney’s working his ass off,” Harry thumbs back to the kitchen.

“Tell him I said ‘hello’ and send me a text when I can pick it up.”

“I will. Nice seeing you again,” Harry pats Caractacus’ shoulder and walks away.

Nevada grips his fork and grits his teeth when he sees the chef touching _his_ boyfriend.

Caractacus turns to him, “Such a lovely fellow, don’t you think?”

Nevada tries to hide his disdain, “He’s ok.”

* * *

After coming back to their apartment, Caractacus asks, “Nevada, are you ok? You seem a bit miffed?”

“What’s the deal with you two? How did he know your name?”

“As I told you, I met him yesterday. He was meeting all the customers as you saw today.”

“I swear he was flirting with you,” Nevada frowns.

“Nevada, you’re being absurd,” Caractacus crosses his arms. “I don’t like where you’re leading this.”

“And I don’t like how you were staring at his tattoos,” he narrows his eyes.

“So? I was admiring their intricacies,” Caractacus explains.

“ _Tengo tatuajes_ ,” Nevada touches his own left shoulder.

“I know you do,” Caractacus shakes his head in disbelief. “Wait, are you jealous?”

“Me? _No estoy celoso_ ,” he looks away.

“Nevada, you bloody well are. Are you afraid that I’ll suddenly fancy the handsome chef and I’ll run off with him?”

Nevada grumbles, “ _...pero soy más guapo_.”

“Nev, you’re acting like one of the children having a bad day.” Caractacus takes his jacket off and hangs it up. He rubs the bridge of his nose, “I wanted to take you somewhere I thought we both could enjoy... I’m going to the workroom.”

He follows him, “But Crack-”

“Just leave me alone, Ramirez,” Caractacus said angrily as he storms off. The door slams shut loudly.

  
“ _Fuck_.” Nevada hated that his own insecurities got the better of him. Of course, he’s been with others before. Caractacus was his first major relationship. He would never leave him; however, in Nevada’s past, he would have if someone like Harry came along. He felt like such an asshole for misjudging and hurting Caractacus. He wanted to bust through the door but thought better of it. Head hung low; he places a hand on the door. A second later, he walks away. Entering the kitchen, he opens the cabinet and takes out a bottle of whiskey and a tumbler glass. Before he poured himself a drink he texted his sister asking her to watch the Potts twins for one more day. He didn’t want them coming home to an awkward household that he created. A response of “ _sí seguro_ ” comes through. Filling the glass halfway, he takes a seat, and drinks it slowly. The warmth of the drink fills his chest. Taking another drink, he swirls the liquid in glass. Sounds of clangs and bangs were heard in the distance. How he wanted to drown them out. He finishes the drink and pours himself another. And another. And another.

* * *

He’s stirred awake by someone shaking him. Caractacus was standing over him with closed fists on his hips and his foot on his shoulder. Nevada is not sure how he ended up on the floor.

“Good lord, you’re absolutely pissed,” he says in a disappointed tone.

“Jusht drunk,” he sighs.

“That’s what I just said.” Caractacus kneels down and helps him sit up.

“You should fucking leave me here,” he crosses his arms.

“I’m still mad at you, but I am not leaving you on the bleedin’ floor.” He places one of his arms around his shoulder. With a heft, he carries him in a one-person lift.

Even in his drunken stupor it always amazed Nevada how strong Caractacus was. He is carried into their bedroom and laid gently on their bed.

“You shoulda shthrown me.”

“Nevada,” Caractacus stifles a laugh. He clears his throat as he tucks him in, “When you’re sober, we’ll chat.”

“You’re leavingsh me, right?”

Caractacus pauses, “What?!”

“Tell me now so it doesn’t sting as bad,” he cuddles a pillow.

“Nevada, you’re a bit of an arse, but I am not breaking up with you.”

“Really?!”

“No,” Caractacus kisses the top of his head. “But we need to have a talk. Rest up. I’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Shleep with me,” Nevada begs.

“No. This is part of your punishment,” Caractacus says sternly.

“ _Qué mierda_ ,” Nevada sighs.

“It certainly does,” Caractacus says before closing their door.

* * *

The next morning Nevada wakes up with a lingering hangover - throbbing headache and all. Opening the nightstand, he grabs a bottle of aspirin and stumbles into the bathroom. “Ughhhh,” he mumbled to himself before swallowing a couple pills with a cup of water.

He hears a knock on the doorway and he turns around, “Caractacus?”

“Glad to see you’re up.”

“Surprised to see you’re still here.” He leans against the bathroom counter, staring into the mirror.

“Why would I leave?” Caractacus gives him a pitiful look.

“I was a jealous piece of shit to you,” he turns around again, running a hand through his hair.

“Jealous yes, but you’re not shite.”

“But I was. Am.”

“Nevada, dear.” Caractacus walks over and puts his hands on his shoulders. He looks him in the eye. “I was angry that you misjudged my character yesterday. You have to trust me.”

“I know, but that’s... that’s fucking hard for me. My past. And what I’ve done -”

“And that’s what you said - _your past_. This is the present. As corny as this may seem - my loyalties and my love are only for you.” Caractacus hands travel to the side of his arms, giving them a slight squeeze. “There are plenty of Harrys out there, but only one of you.”

Both of Nevada’s hands ball into fists and he nearly chokes saying, “ _Perdóname..._ ”

Caractacus cocks his head, “Nev?”

“S… sorry. I’m sorry.” He says louder as he rubs his hands against his thighs nervously. He was scared, and that made him feel super uncomfortable. Caractacus was the one good, constant thing in his life. Yet he rather face down a barrel of a gun than see that look of disappointment in his eyes again. 

“I forgive you,” he whispers.

It takes Nevada a second to comprehend what he said. “ _Gracias a Dios_ ,” he responds. He unexpectedly hugs Caractacus tight. The other man stands there and then reciprocates. Nevada lets out a relieved sigh, melting more into his embrace.

“You know, you’re still not off the hook,” he pats his back.

Nevada says as they let go, “Tsk, you’re such a dad.”

Caractacus tries not to smile, “Unlike the twins, I can’t just send you to your room.” They exit out of the bathroom and out of their room.

“But you could,” he smirks.

“Vada,” he shakes his head. “No. I already know what your punishment will be.”

“Oh?” He leans against the wall.

“Don’t get too excited,” Caractacus says. “As I worked last night, I thought it over. It’s twofold.”

“ _Maldito_ ,” Nevada utters.

“First, you’ll be picking up Harry’s mixing machine on my behalf today. And second, on a day of my choosing: You’ll be wearing a plaid suit.”

Nevada groans, “ _¿Por quééé? Yo niego_. I’ll look like _un tonto_ –”

Caractacus cuts him off, “Are you saying I look like a fool?”

“No. You look fine in plaid but me. Just hell no.”

“Nobody ever said a punishment was easy,” Caractacus grins.

“I’ll visit Harry 100 times at the café instead of- _¡Oye!_ Are you measuring me?” He watches Caractacus use a cloth tape against his right arm.

“Mmmhmmm, got to get the numbers right. You may have to stand in your underpants so I can measure your inseam later.”

“You’re serious?”

“Very.”

Nevada breathes out of his nose audibly.

“You’re going to look adorable.”

“I am _not adorable_ ,” Nevada rolls his eyes.

“Adorable _and intimidating_ ,” Caractacus tries to persuade him. “I think if anyone will make plaid look threatening, it’s you.” 

“ _Yay me_.” Truthfully, Nevada felt better that Caractacus was talking to him. He wasn’t looking forward to the clothes, but he’d do it if meant his Crackpott would stay by his side.

“But this can wait,” he stuffs the cloth tape into one of his vest’s pockets as he looks at his phone. “You have a mixer machine to pick up. Texting you the address to Harry’s flat now.” He taps his phone. “He knows you’ll be coming.”

“Ok,” Nevada looks at his phone.

“While you can bring them, don’t use your guards. You have to get it and carry it yourself,” Caractacus instructed.

“Got it,” Nevada places on his leather jacket.

“ _Please_ don’t threaten him,” Caractacus straightens his collar.

“I won’t,” Nevada breaks into a small smile.

“Good.” With a kiss on the cheek, Caractacus sends him on his way to pick up the mixing machine.

**Author's Note:**

> I headcanon that after the ending of Seared - Harry becomes a co-chef with Rodney. And he makes the scallops with no problem. He's also gone to therapy lol


End file.
